The Girls of Yesterday
by Liam2
Summary: With Willow's help, Angel looks back at a love that never was. C/A


Title: The Girls of Yesterday

Author: Liam2  
Email:  
Rating: T for Teen  
Category: Angst  
Content: C/A. Plus, just because I'm a weirdo, Willow/Angel. But only in the 200 years in the future sense.  
Summary: Two centuries in the future, Willow helps Angel recall the love he never had a chance to experience.  
Spoilers: None, really.  
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss  
Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.  
Distribution: Whoever wants it. Just ask first.  
Notes: Hey boys and girls. This is my first Angel fic in ages. I've been watching my Buffy and Angel DVD's lately and got to feeling nostalgic. This is the result.  
Feedback: Yes, please.

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Five hundred years. Well, 517, but who was counting?

It was amazing to think just how different the world had changed in his lifetime. Hell, when he was sired, the Industrial Revolution wasn't even in full swing. Now there was a freakin' colony on the moon.

Empires and risen and fallen. At this moment, Angel stood atop the Warner Building in what used to be Los Angeles, United States of America. Now it was San Angeles, the Unified States of America, which came about after the economic depression of 2076 when the US and Canada merged into a single nation.

He couldn't help but reflect on the changes in his own life. There were the 150 years of evilness, 100 years of apathy, 8 years of fighting the good fight, 10 years of life off the grid, followed by another 250 of just finding ways to survive in an uncertain world.

Of course, like a typical male, whenever Angel got to thinking about his long life, his thoughts inevitably turned towards the women who shaped it.

Darla. His sire. The woman who taught him everything he knew about being a vampire. Who was even more addictive than his craving for blood. For nearly 150 years he had but two obsessions – death and Darla.

Buffy. The first woman he ever loved. Who he literally gave his soul to. Ultimately, he loved her so much he had to leave her.

Keeley. Who single-handedly brought him out of his self-imposed exile after his kamikaze attack on The Circle of The Black Thorn. Who helped him reconnect with humanity. And the first woman he gave himself to without fear of losing his soul.

Rose. The beautiful baby girl he and Keeley found in a Vienna orphanage in the wake of the Third World War and raised as their own. Who offered him a second chance to be a father and yet another chance at redemption.

But whenever he came to this city, his thoughts always turned to one woman in particular. To the woman who did more to connect him to humanity than any other person. Who actually helped him embrace the demonic side of his nature. A woman he had loved, if ever so briefly. A woman, who for all purposes, died before he had a chance to tell her how he felt.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?"

Next to him appeared a striking redhead with porcelain skin. Willow Rosenburg. Dressed in a simple green peasant dress perhaps more suited to the late 18th century than the middle 23rd .

"Things," Angel vaguely answered.

Willow. To any random person on the street she might look to be about 30. But Angel could feel the power emanating from his on-again/off-again girlfriend of the past two centuries. She was a goddess, or near enough. Her power so great, that in the year 2010, permanently anchored his soul with a few well spoken words.

"Cordelia."

Willow's browed furrowed a moment, trying to think. Should she know that name? Suddenly it hit her. "Cordelia Chase?"

"How many others do you know?"

"Wow," Willow chuckled. "Cordelia Chase. That's a name I haven't thought about in… two hundred years, at least."

"I think about her every day," Angel softly said.

Willow didn't know how to respond for a moment. Finally, she said, "I'd nearly forgotten about her. Of course, two hundred years, most days I struggle to remember Buffy and Xander's faces, and they were my best friends. I don't have your photographic vampire memory."

After a few silent moments: "I was in love with her."

Willow's mind reeled. "Oh. Wow."

Angel looked at her, surprised by her reaction. "I'm sure I've mentioned it before."

"I'm sure you haven't."

"Really? Seems like the type of thing I'd mention."

"Have you even met you? It's exactly the type of thing you wouldn't mention." Willow stared out into night, gazing at the San Angeles skyline for several long moments. Then, incredulously, "Cordelia Chase? Really? I know I didn't see much of her after she moved from Sunnydale, so maybe she changed, but _Cordelia Chase_?"

Angel smiled slightly. "She was a remarkable woman."

The expression on his face. She never saw it when he was with Buffy. In her two hundred years with the vampire, she never saw that expression directed at her. Only when he was with Keeley and Rose did she ever see such an expression of pure contentment. It almost made Willow jealous. Of course, their relationship was non-exclusive. She did have a few girlfriends on the side…

"There was a time," the vampire continued, "when the world was perfect. Yeah, I mean, a time shifting demon did pull an 18th century vampire hunter whose family I killed into the present day to inflict torture upon me, but besides that, life was perfect. I had friends… I had a son… and a woman…."

Angel took an unneeded breath and then blew into the cool night air. "Then I sent said woman off with a moron from an alternate dimension and one of my best friends got tricked into handing over my son to the aforementioned vampire hunter because the aforementioned time shifting demon created a slew of false prophesies saying I would kill my son. It kinda went downhill from there."

"Gee, I thought I had problems," Willow tried to joke.

Angel continued like he didn't even hear her. "For a couple weeks there, even with the looming threat of danger, I had Connor and Cordelia. The three of us would go to the mall at night shopping for baby clothes. We'd give him baths. Try to interpret what his gurgles meant." Angel chuckled at the memory. Then, with a look of infinite fondness, "We'd lay together at night, Connor tucked between us. Talking about… whatever. Just the three of us. And it felt so…"

After a few moments silence, Angel shuddered. It took a few more moments for Willow to realize he was holding back a sob. She gently rubbed circles on his back, trying to soothe him.

"That was the happiest time of my life," he admitted. As he realized what he said, shame flickered across his face. "I loved Keeley and Rose so much. Would have died or killed for either of them. But Connor was my flesh and blood. And Cordelia was…"

Angel fought to reign in his emotions. Willow's heart broke for him. "Some days—most days—I'd give anything to go back in time. Relive those few weeks."

The dam broke. Angel began to heave in tortured sobs. So much that he nearly missed when Willow said: "Okay."

Tears streaming down his cheeks, Angel turned in confusion to his companion. "What?"

"Angel, do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Then close your eyes."

Willow's pale delicate fingers reached out and brushed against his temple. Coming to rest just above his ears, her fingertips pressed into his skull. She began to whisper softly in Latin. Angel caught a few words. Something about evoking memories—

Willow was amazed at the detail. Memories from over two centuries before, crystal clear in high definition and surround sound. She'd done this spell a few times in a few variations. The first time just before the battle against the hell god Glory. Establishing a psychic link, evoking the memories of days past. All Willow had to do was focus, find the desired memories. Angel made it easy. Cordelia was at the forefront of his mind.

Willow released an audible gasp as the images flooded her mind. As Angel relieved the memories, Willow herself witnessed them from his viewpoint. She saw Cordelia as he saw her. Beautiful, vibrant, caring – with just a pinch of tactlessness. Just the right amount to be terribly endearing.

_-- Cordelia, standing above. A tight, worried smile on her face. In her hand was a tube of antibiotic cream and a bandage. She delicately placed the bandage over the hole in her – no, his – chest. "Way to go, dumbass," she tried to quip, but the worry bleeding through. "Once again you've failed to master the art of _not_ getting impaled by sharp objects." _

_As Angel, Willow felt herself say, "It's a good thing I know a good doctor."_

_Cordelia shot a look that clearly said, "Flattery will get you nowhere."_

_-- Cordelia. Her warm, hard body pressed against his. Clad in workout gear, a short sword in hand. Her – Angel's – hands on Cordelia's wrist, showing the proper way to move with the sword. An overwhelming aroma filled her nostrils. Sweat, adrenaline, hormones, heat. Willow was really liking this memory…_

_-- Cordelia, fury carved onto her face. But still so beautiful. Her eyes full of compassion, even as she tore into him. "How could you! With Darla! Did you learn nothing last year?"_

_-- A notepad. On the page, a pencil sketch of Cordelia's face. Looking down, her face showing concentration, a thin wisp of hair dangling in her left eye. Angel looked up, across the hotel counter to where Cordelia worked on reports. "Angel," a British voice called out. Angel jumped in his seat and flipped the notepad shut. _

_-- "Dork". "Dumbass." "Loser." "Bloodsucker." Behind each word, the oddest, most sincere affection._

_-- Panic. Fear. This last vision, God please, don't let this be _the last_. Bring her back to me. I swear, I'll do whatever you want. I can't live without her. Please, let her wake up. _

_-- Laying on his side. On the opposite side of the bed, turned on her side facing her – him -- was Cordelia. In her hand was a baby bottle, and between them, a gorgeous baby boy. Connor. _

_A sleepy smile graced Cordelia's face. Her hazel eyes barely visable behind her thick eyelashes. And the scent… some of it the baby, some of it her. But the combination was intoxicating. Baby powder, lavender, and the unmistakable aroma that was simply Cordelia. _

_-- "I'm only alive when you're inside me."_

_If only I could be. For the first time in centuries I might feel like _I _was alive. To be inside her, filling her, the heat, the tightness. Her taste, her smell, her sight. It would be so easy to lose everything in her, to her. My heart, my soul…_

"_I'm that guy and the most beautiful girl I've ever seen is making eyes at me? It's either a bachelor party or a scam."_

_-- "It depends. On how you feel about… me."_

No! Willow mentally cried. That's how it ended? Oh Goddess. Poor Angel. No, not today. Today she'd give him a happier ending.

_They stood on the beach. This time, she wasn't viewing events from Angel's perspective. Rather, the vampire was standing twenty feet away. It was nighttime, a beach. The waves gently crashing against the rocks. No, this time, Willow was inside—_

"_Cordelia," the vampire smiled._

"_Angel," Willow felt herself say._

"_What did you want to talk about?" the vampire questioned. Willow felt herself move towards him. Angel did the same._

"_Nothing terribly important. Just the fact that I love you."_

_The smile on his face was simply radiant as his mind processed the words she had spoken. "Yeah?"_

"_Of course, you dumb vampire."_

_They stood face to face. Angel simply wore a silly smile. Suddenly, Willow felt herself reach out and punch the vampire's shoulder. He had the gall to look indignant. _

"_What was that for?" he asked._

"_For not saying it back! It's only proper that you answer my declaration of love with your own!"_

"_Cordelia Chase… I love you."_

_Willow felt a goofy smile appear on her own face. "Really?"_

_Her answer was a kiss. Powerful, urgent, needful. Oh Goddess, he never kissed _her_ like that._

And suddenly, the spell was broken. On the San Angeles rooftop, Willow and Angel kissed, the former slowly realizing the false memory was just that – false – but not quite willing to let it go.

The moment ended. Both parties gasped for breath, their eyes locked on each other, her hand clutching the hair at the back of his neck.

"Better?" Willow asked, hopeful. The pain in Angel's eyes was like a wound to her soul.

"Not really," the vampire softly replied.

"Angel… I didn't know. I am so sorry."

The vampire nodded, clutched at Willow's hand, drawing comfort from in. "She was…" Angel began.

"…a remarkable woman," Willow finished sincerely, knowing that fact without question. Looking down at their entwined hands, she gently tugged him to the stairwell door. "C'mon, killing something will make you fell better. Supposedly there's a big nasty in Sacramento."

Angel smiled wanly. This was gonna be a big time brood. Willow needed to cut it off at the pass.

"So… chipmunk robots on ice?" Angel barked in laughter and turned a warm smile in her direction. "What was that about?"

"It made perfect sense at the time."

THE END


End file.
